


Procedural

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Cop Fetish, Dirty Talk, Light Masochism, M/M, Object Insertion, Sexual Roleplay, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 21:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: Dick indulges one of Jason's fantasies: to be locked up by Officer Grayson.Of course, "locked up" can mean several things.





	Procedural

**Author's Note:**

> this was a commission for the wonderful [arkhams-final-victim!](http://arkhams-final-victim.tumblr.com/) I just love writing little IC roleplay scenarios like this. hope you all enjoy, too!

Dick Grayson’s kitchen light doesn’t give off quite the same feel as a buzzing bulb in an interrogation room, but it’s close enough for tonight. Jason’s bare feet are cold against the tile flooring; his shoes and socks were taken away as punishment during his “pat-down,” after Dick found the slim daggers he kept in his boots as backup. They sit with the rest of his weapons and holsters in a pile atop the kitchen table, which seems miles away right now.

Mostly, it’s because he finds it hard to focus on anything other than the man in front of him. Dick is like a perfectly-crafted Renaissance painting, in that one’s eyes are drawn to him as if he’s the centerpiece of any given setting. The curve of his elbow, raised up where he slings a night stick over his shoulder, serves as the lead-in; after that, Jason has to admire the cop hat perched atop Dick’s head, then his bright blue eyes, then the darker blue that makes up the rest of his BPD uniform. The handcuffs that usually dangle from his waist are currently securing Jason to the back of an uncomfortable kitchen chair.

He tugs at his wrists, testing the bonds. Dick took all of his lockpicks, and anything else that could be used in their place. (The pat-down was  _ very _ thorough.) These are no play cuffs; they’re the real deal, with no emergency release. Just the way Jason likes it. He lets the metal bite into his skin for a minute, and then, satisfied, fixes Dick with a shameless grin.

“When’s the strip search?” he asks.

“Quiet.” Dick’s been in full cop mode since their brief scuffle on his living room floor. His tone leaves no room for argument. “Don’t test my patience, Hood. You’re already on thin ice after what you did to those gangs.”

Jason hasn’t actually done anything in Bludhaven — he values the integrity of his balls — but he plays along, shrugging like he’s just gotten caught pulling a juvenile prank.

“Eh, they deserved it. What, you got a soft spot for gangsters?” He lets his eyes linger on Dick’s crotch for far longer than they should, then turns his mischievous gaze back up to his face. “Bet I can find out…”

“I said,  _ quiet. _ ”

Dick strikes him across the face with his nightstick. It’s a laughably glancing blow; they’re not going for strict realism tonight, and he’s sure Dick wouldn’t like it if his mouth swelled shut before they can get down to business. Even though it only leaves a small red mark on Jason’s cheek, he rocks with it like it knocked him off-balance. Before he can speak again, Dick angles the tip of the weapon under his chin, then uses it to coax his mouth open.

“...Or am I gonna have to  _ make  _ you shut up?” he asks, lowering his voice to a murmur.

God, that look in Dick’s eyes is hot. Even if Jason were still a real scumbag, he feels like he’d have trouble facing off with Officer Grayson if it came down to it. Tented pants make for easy targets, and all.

The sight has him so mesmerized that he forgets to think up a witty comeback in time. Dick scrutinizes him with a cautious once-over, then pulls back. Jason immediately misses the contact.

“Hey, babe,” he says, when Dick turns his back, “I hate to see you go, but  _ love _ to watch you leave. Those pants shrink in the dryer or something? ‘Cause…”

He punctuates his sentence with a low whistle, eyes firmly locked on Dick’s backside. In fairness, his pants  _ do _ look way too small for him, but Dick rolls his eyes at the comment anyway.

“You really think I’d stoop so low as to sleep with a criminal? Hah.” Dick crosses the distance between the two of them and snatches Jason’s chin up. The leather of his gloves squeaks when he tightens his grip. “Keep dreaming. Now, open up.”

Jason bites his lower lip and grins. Dick narrows his eyes, shifting his hand up until he can pinch Jason’s cheeks, forcing his fingers between his teeth from the outside. Jason keeps smiling even when Dick yanks his mouth open and presses the nightstick to his lips.

“You like to run your mouth so much, why don’t you use it for something nice for a change?” Dick asks. “C’mon. Show me how you really curried so much favor with the other scum in this town.”

“Hahh—” Jason tilts his chin up, breath fogging the end of the nightstick. “Thought you were supposed to be interrogating me, Officer…”

“Someone’ll be in to do that later,” Dick says. “It’s just you and me now… and there’s a lesson I’ve been wanting to teach the big, bad Red Hood.”

Jason sucks in a breath, but it’s cut off short when Dick shoves the end of the nightstick into his mouth. His lips stretch wide to accommodate it, teeth knocking against the dense plastic. Dick keeps pushing and pushing, bending Jason’s head back with the force of it, until the tip of the baton sits flush at the back of his throat.

“C’mon,” Dick urges, “take a little more. You make all those people eat lead, I think you can handle a little plastic, can’t you, bad boy?”

There’s such an unexpected lightness in Dick’s voice that Jason is taken aback. It contrasts sharply with the way he pushes the nightstick past the tense muscles in his throat, so deep he can’t even gag properly. In his periphery, he sees Dick glance down at his bound hands to see if he makes their nonverbal safe signal, but Jason just digs his nails into his palms and curls his toes against the floor.

Dick draws back to admire the way his Adam’s apple works around the bulge in his throat. Just when Jason feels like he might never breathe again, Dick slowly, carefully pulls the baton out and pats him none-too-gently on the cheek.

“There you go. Yeah, I guess I can see why they let a brat like you be on top, after all.”

Dick rests the spit-slick baton against Jason’s cheek while he coughs and tries to catch his breath. Eyes unfocused, all he can think of is being “on top” of Dick, riding him hard and fast until neither of them can speak. He pants and drools wordlessly until Dick’s eyes slide down to his lap.

“Well, wouldja look at that?” Dick chirps, bringing the nightstick down to poke it firmly under Jason’s hard cock. Denim and the cut of his zipper grind against bare skin; he’s gone commando tonight. “We got a problem here, inmate?”

“Wha…” Jason starts. He has to splutter a little bit before his rough throat will produce any more noise. “What lesson a-are… you s’posed to be teaching me, anyway…?”

Dick leans in, cupping Jason’s face with a deceptive softness, while he continues to grind the baton at the base of his cock with the other. The contrast keeps Jason on his toes.

“I’m teaching you” Dick whispers, their lips practically touching, “who really owns this town. And  _ everything _ in it.”

Jason’s cock throbs despite the pressure. In fact, when Dick pointedly twists his baton before yanking it away, Jason gasps, face lighting up with the heat of his sex flush. He’s sure he’s red all over now, from his cheeks to his ears to his chest to his thighs. They’ve hardly even started, and already, Dick Grayson has him right where he wants him.

He should probably be mad about that. Instead, he just gapes while Dick fixes him with a smirk far more devious than anything he himself could ever muster.

“I can see you’re getting the gist of it,” Dick says. He straightens his back, slinging the baton over his shoulder once more. “Which is good, ‘cause Sarge’ll have my head if I work much more overtime. What do you think, Hood? You think we can come to an understanding?”

Despite the overwhelming need radiating outward from his crotch, Jason spits, “Fuck you, pretty boy.”

“Fuck  _ me? _ ” Dick laughs like he just cracked a hilarious joke. “Alright, maybe you’re slower than I thought. Don’t worry, kiddo; most crooks are.”

Dick ruffles his hair. If he were anyone else, Jason would bite his hand right off. But this is Dick Grayson, all dolled up in the most flattering cop uniform ever tailored, so he just huffs and tries not to make his desperation too obvious.

“I-I have rights, you know,” he mutters sourly.

“Yeah,” Dick says, “but since you didn’t seem to be too big a fan of the ‘remain silent’ one, I figured you wouldn’t mind giving up a couple more.”

Dick tucks his baton back into place at his belt, then rounds the chair, laying his hands on Jason’s shoulders. He hasn’t worn his body armor for this shindig, so when Dick grips him underneath his leather jacket, only a thin cotton shirt is left to separate them. He leans close enough that Jason can feel his breath on the back of his neck when he speaks.

“Here’s how this is gonna work,” he says, rubbing faux-soothing little circles into the base of his neck with his thumbs. “I’m gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

Jason bites back another gasp.

“...And if you’re a good boy, and beg me nice and pretty, I might see what I can do about your sentence,” Dick continues. “You might think you’re king of the hill out there, but in prison? Cute little newbie like you… Mmn, they won’t be as gentle as an officer of the law, don’t you think?”

“This is gentle?” Jason asks, surprised by how breathless his own voice is.

“This,” Dick says, sliding a hand forward to wrap loosely around Jason’s neck, “is  _ very _ gentle.”

Jason marinates in the implication for a while, pulse racing against Dick’s gloved fingers. As if to reinforce his point, Dick lays soft, barely-there kisses over his neck, ghosting over his skin until the hairs there stand on end. Every once in a while, he surprises Jason with just a hint of teeth, a preview of what’s to come.

“Oh, fuck,” Jason says abruptly. He squirms in his seat, cock aching in his pants. “Oh, fuck, please. I’ll do what you want, okay? Whatever you want. Just,  _ please, _ touch me…”

“I  _ am _ touching you.” Even from this angle, Jason can  _ hear _ the grin in Dick’s voice.

“Officer,” Jason whines.

Dick chuckles, trailing his palm down Jason’s front. He makes quick work of his belt, button, and zipper — one-handed, a detail that makes Jason’s head spin — and wraps his leather-clad fingers around his cock.

“Here?” Dick mumbles against his neck. He dips his fingers lower, cupping Jason’s balls. “Or here?”

Jason makes a high-pitched sound he’s deeply ashamed of and tilts his head to give Dick more access to his skin. “Whatever you want. Whatever you want, oh, shit…”

“Good answer.”

Dick slowly jerks his cock, lingering close to the tip. The tug of dry leather against such sensitive skin isn’t comfortable by any means, but at this point, Jason figures he could get off even with a couple of broken bones, so long as Dick was the one to give them to him.

They continue in silence for a few moments more, Dick slowly increasing his pace, wrapping more of his hand around Jason’s cock. Jason groans and arches off of the chair, close, closer, but just as he’s about to come, Dick clamps his fingers around the base hard enough to make him yelp.

“Hey! What the ffffu—”

“You think you deserve to get off?” Dick asks, a hint of a laugh in his voice, as if the question is ridiculous at its core. “That  _ I _ should be the one making  _ you _ come? After all the hell you put me through out there?”

Jason huffs through flared nostrils. For a second, he forgets himself. “Dick—”

“Officer Grayson.” The correction is accompanied by a sharp tug between his legs.

“Officer Grayson,” Jason breathes. The pain muddies his focus, makes him forget why he’s fighting so much. A bead of precum rolls down the underside of his cock. “S-Sir… Please just let me come. I’ll do anything, okay?  _ Anything _ ...”

For the first time that night, Jason hears an audible sign of Dick’s interest: a sharp gasp hidden against the base of his neck. That gloved thumb traces circles into his cock, an absent motion like Dick’s lost in thought. Then, finally, he pulls back, and Jason hears something jingle behind him.

“No funny business,” he says, a second before uncuffing Jason from the chair.

His wrist only remains free long enough for Dick to force him onto his knees. Then he’s shoved forward until the tip of his nose meets the cold tile, and Dick cuffs him back up properly. Jason tugs at the cuffs again just to feel them cut at his skin while Dick yanks his pants down and spreads him open.

“Oh, wow,” Dick says, admiring the way his asshole twitches under the assault. “Pretty cute hole for such a big, scary gangster. Look how needy…”

Dick prods him with a cool, gloved finger, sinking the very tip of it in. The friction makes Jason whimper, his cock jumping where it hangs between his legs.

“Officer,” he says, “Officer,  _ please. _ I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, I want it s-so bad—”

Dick pulls his finger out and slaps Jason’s ass. “Patience, inmate.”

Then Dick draws away completely, and Jason nearly sobs at the loss of contact. He looks back between his legs, watches Dick drop one glove, then the second; he hears a zipper go down, a bottle uncap, then the slick slide of something wet against bare skin.

When Dick’s hands come back again, they’re bare and hot, but not as hot as the cock he slides between Jason’s cheeks. The radiating warmth makes Jason feel dizzy, and he rocks his hips, delighting in the way the action smears lube up onto his lower back.

“Don’t even need my fingers, do you, bad boy?” Dick asks, his voice several octaves lower than usual. Jason shivers; the change in tone means he won’t have to wait much longer. “Bet this cute little slutty hole of yours will just eat me right up.”

“Inside,” Jason moans. “Inside me, please,  _ please, _ Officer, I can’t take it anymore—!”

Dick sheathes himself inside with one swift motion, and Jason positively keens. It’s rough and messy and painful just like he wanted, just the way he’d described it to Dick. There’s no hesitation, no pausing for his comfort; just Dick taking him rough and fast, like his own pleasure is all he cares about.

The metal of the handcuffs  _ clink-clink-clink _ s as Jason yanks at them until his wrists are ringed with hot pink marks. The pain sets his nerves on fire, makes every one of Dick’s thrusts all the more intense. Dick, the wonderful bastard who knows him better than anyone, yanks his head back by the hair, and Jason yowls, tensed up from top to bottom.

“Little pain slut,” Dick says. “Think I’ll keep you under house arrest with me. Hahh— That sound good? Could use a—  _ nngh _ — a little cock sleeve after work. Help me relax. Whaddya say?”

Holy shit. Dick’s been practicing his dirty talk for sure. Jason gapes, a long string of drool connecting his mouth to the floor. “ _ Yes, _ ” he says, “yes, yes, yes, yes, please, please, I’m so close, Sir, I’m gonna—!”

“Good boy,” Dick says, and Jason comes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr!](https://dicktofen.tumblr.com/)


End file.
